


Impersonating Responsible Adults

by zarabithia



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comic), White Collar
Genre: Bondage, Casual Sex, Crossover, F/M, Female Protagonist, POV Bisexual Character, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Request Meme, Texts From Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's amazing what kind of friendships can develop when you save a pretty thief from getting eaten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impersonating Responsible Adults

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fictionalfemme](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fictionalfemme).



> Written for the prompt: "It's just like riding a bike. Only it's a dude's face."

Faith knew the minute she laid eyes on Pretty Boy that he was going to be one hundred percent useless. The wannabe suit, the hair that looked like it wanted to have Angel's look but came out looking more like Andrew's hair, and the certainty that he was being stealthy all gave it away.

Faith didn't have much use for pretty boys. Sure, she wasn't all that discriminating in her sexual partners, but the basic requirement was that they be good for something besides being pretty.

The empty-headed pretty boys were more Buffy's territory. Everyone knew that.

Since it was her solitary standard, Faith wasn't planning on giving it up anytime soon. That fact, combined with the knowledge that nobody ever expected her to be the _nice_ slayer, resulted in Faith not being particularly kind when she gave him a good shove away from the entrance to the Cleveland Museum of Art.

"You know, at first, I just assumed you were an overly aggressive security guard that I'd overlooked, possibly one on steroids," Pretty Boy informed her as he stood up and dusted his suit off (the unnecessarily went without saying.) "But the ax and the pile of dust? Giving me a different kind of impression."

"What kind of impression?" Faith asked, because hearing what they came up with was always a good time.

"Vampires," Pretty Boy answered, and the confidence in his voice made Faith glad that she could laugh at him.

"Not even close. This was a Nreiub Demon."

"Ah, I see. Vampires, demons ... not even close," Pretty Boy answered, in what was obviously supposed to be a clever stab at sarcasm.

Well, it looked better on him than on Xander, Faith would give him that much.

"Vampires suck your blood. This one turns your bones to liquid and drinks them after he decapitates you," Faith said bluntly.

"Okay, then, definitely a bit of a difference," Pretty Boy admitted, "You know, that means I owe you at least dinner for saving my life."

"Don't you have a museum to finish robbing first?"

"This is where I would normally explain that you have interrupted the situation all wrong," Pretty Boy informed her. "Of course, this is also the situation where you would normally look somewhat concerned about the fact that I _appear_ to be breaking into the museum."

"Are you planning on eating of the security guards on duty?"

"That is absolutely the first time anyone has asked me that, and I feel like I might be disappointing you when I say that the answer is no."

"Sorry, Pretty Boy. I have bigger fish to fry."

Faith's sense of good taste was pleased with her decision to leave Pretty Boy standing where he was. The part of her that hadn't gotten any in a while wasn't nearly as happy, but there were plenty of men in Cleveland who could help Faith fix that problem.

~~

The next time Faith saw Pretty Boy, he managed to gain and lose her respect within the span of about five minutes.

The former was accomplished by actually being able to track her down. Nobody should be able to do that. Especially not a mere thief who was dumb enough to get jumped by a demon in the middle of attempting to rob a museum in _Ohio._

"I spent a lot of time in New York," he told her, "I'm used to finding valuable things in a big city."

It was almost a cute come-on; it was definitely one that would have gotten him in her pants. But then he had to go and ruin everything by giving what was obviously a fake name.

"You're about as much Nick Holden as I am," Faith snorted in disgust.

"Why don't you think that's my real name?" Pretty Boy asked, giving Faith the distinct impression of a puppy who was confused about why she had stopped scratching its ears.

Puppies really _were_ much more Buffy's thing. Everyone knew that.

"Was there something you actually wanted, or were you just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by and annoy me?"

Pretty Boy at least had some brains in his head - which was always in question, because in Faith's experience, men didn't usually tend to get _both_ gift baskets - because he offered something actually truthful this time. "Something's happened to Mozzie - "

"Your lookout dude? Short, fat, balding?"

"...Noticed him last time?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "The places _I've_ spent make New York look like Disney World. You and Bald Dude aren't my first thieves."

Again with the puppy look. But at least this time it came with the information she needed to save Bald Dude.

~~

"A virgin sacrifice," Faith started to say, before Bald Dude interrupted her, with a finger that seemed to shake his whole body.

"I'm not a virgin!"

"Well, I'm sure once they figured that out, you would have been safe," Pretty Boy said and from the smoothness of his voice, Faith was almost positive he knew that was as much of a lie as she did.

"Nah. They would have killed you anyway for wasting their time," Faith answered.

"That punishment seems rather ... harsh," Pretty Boy responded.

"Seems just about right for the crime," Faith answered breezily.

"I'll try not to _waste your time_ anymore, in the future." Oh, Pretty Boy almost looked like he had some claws behind that particular puppy look, and it was almost enough to invite him back to her place.

But Bald Dude really wasn't her type - the last virgin she'd tapped hadn't turned out so well, with the crying that really wasn't Faith's gig - and they seemed to be a package deal.

Faith opted for a different package deal that night. One tall and black-haired, one short and blonde.

When morning came, she couldn't have told you their names, and she liked it just fine that way. At least they hadn't given her _fake_ names, which was a very important difference, in Faith's view.

~~

She didn't plan to head to New York, but when a F'leurg demon called, you had to answer (unless you wanted everyone to suddenly turn into giant green crystals before exploding into piles of goo all over the place.) And Buffy was busy playing teacher, so it was up to Faith to pick up the slack.

After kicking its ass, Faith figured she was due for a little downtime in a _real_ city before heading back to the world equivalent of jock itch that was Ohio.

And really, after Pretty Boy was able to track her down so easily, Faith needed to make sure she wasn't slipping. A girl needed to be at her peak performance to fight vampires, after all.

Sadly, her ego couldn't be stroked, because Pretty Boy was hiding in plain sight.

He was getting paid to do it, too, which just meant that some people were far better suited to be crooks than Faith had been.

But Faith was pacified by the fact that Pretty Boy was giving _everyone_ a fake name, including the girl he was fucking.

~~

Faith spent most of dinner trying to figure out a way that Kate (actually her name) wasn't perfect.

She was all warmth and smiles and bright eyes, with tiny delicate hands (that could never hold a stake, Faith noted with some satisfaction) that disappeared entirely whenever she placed her hand in Pretty Boy's, which she did a lot. Tiny delicate hands that would have looked very nice tied to Faith's bedpost, but Faith was sure that Kate wasn't into that, because being perfect, she probably had a perfect vagina that gave her perfect orgasms from perfectly vanilla, perfectly heterosexual, perfectly socially acceptable sex.

She never seemed to get angry - oh, and Faith _tried_ \- and all of her interests seemed to be perfectly and exactly what they should be.

Faith hadn't seen that much concentrated perfect since she'd left Sunnydale, and the only thing that kept her from fleeing the table to scrub off the hives she was sure she was breaking out in was the fact that Alex (which might or might not have been her real name, Faith wasn't sure yet) seemed to dislike Kate as much as Faith did.

In truth, Faith spent much of the meal wondering if Alex was going to stab someone. It was probably a sign of Faith's considerable lack of perfection that she would have been perfectly okay with that, and in fact, it would have improved the taste of her steak.

Not sensing the trouble he was in, Pretty Boy waited for dessert to arrive before he said, "I have to admit I'm surprised to see you here in our fair city. Decide we weren't a total waste of time, after all?"

"I decided I didn't want you to turn into a pile of goo," Faith retorted.

"For which I, for one, am very grateful," Bald Guy informed her. "In fact, I suggest we all raise a toast to Supergirl and her amazing demon slaying powers."

"I'm not Supergirl. Wrong slayer. Not blonde enough," Faith answered.

"There's more like you?" Alex asked, and Faith lied easily.

"Just the one," because Buffy could protect herself, but from what Giles told her, most of the baby slayers were still too stupid to operate without Mama Buffy keeping them safe. "You'd like her," she said, in the general direction of Pretty Boy and Kate.

"I'm not sure what I could have in common with someone who fights monsters," Kate answered.

"It does seem a little too _dirty_ for you," Faith agreed.

Pretty Boy cleared his throat to interrupt the conversation - which wasn't any fun at all - and raised a glass. "I for one am glad you decided to show up and save us all from a lifetime spent as a pile of goo. It's good to know how much you really care."

Faith shrugged. "The green goo would have ruined the pretty."

A faint tint of red spread across Pretty Boy and Kate's cheeks, if for entirely different reasons. Faith drank a satisfied sip from her glass, pleased to discover that nobody at their table was perfect after all.

~~

Apparently, the Cleveland Museum of Art had some amazing treasures.

Faith thought that perhaps she should give the inside of it a look, someday. Since people kept traveling hundreds of miles to break into it. Something in there had to be far more amazing than any of that boring art Joyce had been into.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Pretty Boy's offer seemed sincere, and he seemed oblivious to the glare Kate gave him.

Faith wondered briefly why perfect people kept proving they were almost as bad at relationships as she was, before she answered him. "Sorry, not doing the crime thing these days. Going to prison really puts a damper on the whole killing demons thing."

"Ah, but the goal is not to get caught, so the crime fighting can continue, Supergirl," Bald Guy informed her.

"Everyone gets caught eventually," Faith answered with a shrug.

"Not if you're really _good_ ," Pretty Boy argued, and Kate rolled her eyes so that Faith didn't have to.

"She already said she didn't want to come. Let's go," Kate said firmly and Pretty Boy followed the command, proving that he really was as pussy whipped as Faith believed.

 _Definitely_ Buffy's type.

~~

If anyone asked, Faith was absolutely _not_ involved in Alex's heist.

Absolutely not.

Feeling up the guard did not count as "aiding and abetting," Faith was sure of it. Especially when the guard was that nice to look at and had hands that felt like _that_ when they were returning her feeling up.

She liked to call it, "appetizers," instead. The main course was fucking Handsome Guard into the bed and discovering that like every security guard she'd ever fucked before, he too had a handcuff fetish.

Predictable. Fun, but predictable.

Alex at least waited to slip in through the window until Faith had kicked the security dude out of the apartment.

"Something to drink?" Faith asked, slipping on an over-sized t-shirt as she crossed the apartment to her fridge.

"That's a better offer than Larry got," Alex said amusedly.

"I'm not fucking you," Faith answered, then paused, "Am I?"

"Sorry, you're not my type," Alex answered, taking the beer that Faith offered. "Do you always bring the target back to your bed, or was Larry just that irresistible?"

"I only bring 'em back when I want to make good and sure they're so embarrassed by the night we spent that they will never, ever mention my name to a cop," Faith answered.

Alex laughed softly. "Our mutual acquaintance is right, you know. You really would make one hell of a criminal, if you weren't so busy saving people."

The comment startled Faith and she wished she could send Alex over to Europe and have her say that to each one of the Scoobies repeatedly, with a video camera in hand, just so Faith could see their faces.

Instead, she gave into the urge to laugh. "Oh, honey, you and your crew couldn't have handled the type of criminal I used to be."

~~

Alex didn't seem to hold much of a grudge against Faith, because it was Alex that showed up to tell Faith that Pretty Boy had finally gotten caught.

But it was Bald Guy who showed up, six months later, with a package full of newspaper clippings about the trial, a half dozen post cards from Pretty Boy, and a bottle of wine that had as little of effect on her as the beer in her fridge.

She glanced through the clippings and the cards. " _Neal Caffrey_."

It was an oddly disappointing way to find out the man's real name.

Her acquaintance sighed and nodded as he drank from his glass. "You could keep calling him Pretty Boy, though. I think he rather likes it."

"Gotta stop it, then. Don't wanna give him a big head." Faith fingered one of the cards. "Thanks, Mozzie."

"My pleasure, Supergirl ... you know, we could break him out. Or, well, you could."

"I could. But it might be what he needs."

"Is that the kind of defeatist attitude you grow once you've been in the pen?" Mozzie gave a visible shudder and poured another glass of wine.

"Yep. It's standard post-pen fair. Neal might come out with the same attitude."

"Oh, god, I hope not. What a terrible fate."

Faith drained her glass. "Don't worry, Mozzie. I'm sure Neal will be five by five."

"In prison, no signal is that clear, Faith. You know that as well as I do."

~~

She hadn't dated Robin in a long, long time, but he liked to show up every now and then and pretend he had the right to tell her how to live her life.

It was almost endearing, really.

"I don't think this trip is a good idea, Faith."

"I'm shocked that you would think that." The level of sarcasm in her voice really wasn't deep enough, Faith thought as she zipped up her bag. Starting to get a little too full, too full of stuff that signaled she was getting comfy in starting to think of Cleveland as home.

Maybe after New York she should find another gig. Getting comfy in one spot had never been her idea of a good time.

"The slayers I'm working with, they all look up to you, you know that, right?"

"Be that as it may, I've got to go."

"You don't have to," Robin argued.

"You want me to just let the cult successfully summon the trolls and let them trample New York?" Faith rolled her eyes. "Way to encourage responsibility, there. Aren't you supposed to be setting an example?"

"You could always call Buffy."

Faith narrowed her eyes. "Boy, you just proved why we didn't work out. You don't know a damn thing about me at all."

"That's not fair."

"Neither's playing the Buffy card."

"Look, whatever's in New York, it's not good for you. I could tell that much the last time you came back from there. And all your ... visitors." Robin scowled, the same exact scowl he'd given when she'd suggested handcuffs that one time.

Apparently, Robin had never dated any security guards.

"Any change is better than the same old, same old, Robin."

~~

Faith didn't care for Peter Burke at all.

"I'm not sure that's fair. You never actually met the guy," Neal argued once Peter had gone. "First impressions formed from eavesdropping from within my shower do not count."

"Slayer hearing is a beautiful thing, and it absolutely counts."

"Peter is a good guy, Faith." Neal grinned widely at her then, and oh, Faith was well aware that it was supposed to be the kind of dazzling smile that knocked her off her feet and made her forget what they were arguing about. "But I'm very touched that you are that _worried_ about me."

Neal stepped closer then, and Faith internally groaned. Laying it on a little too thick. It probably would have worked with Buffy, Faith thought.

"You know, I had a boyfriend like you once. All my gifts were stolen," Faith said pointedly.

"Mmm, stolen gifts. Not too classy. I prefer to buy the presents with the money I've earned," Neal said, with his hands slipping around her waist.

"Earned from stealing," Faith retorted with a snort, giving him a gentle push away from her.

"Such a lack of trust," Neal teased lightly, rubbing his chest to suggest that maybe her "gentle" hadn't been gentle enough. Eh, it wasn't like that was the first time that'd happened.

"I trust you fine, Pretty Boy. But Burke doesn't, and take it from someone who's been there. No matter how hard you fight for it, you aren't ever going to be able to earn your redemption from someone who doesn't trust you."

"You're wrong about Peter, Faith."

"I hope I am."

~~

To say that the next six months were busy was the kind of understatement that could only be topped by saying that vampires were kind of fond of blood. Between Rogue Slayers, Cleveland and Buffy, Faith did not have a whole lot of time to deal with much else.

Which of course meant that when she got a phone call from Mozzie alerting her to "a possible demon sighting," that she squeezed it into her schedule regardless.

She really _couldn't_ have sent Buffy that time; they weren't exactly on speaking terms after the whole Gigi mess.

The demons turned out to be some sort of half-spider/half-woman deal that apparently viewed humans as flies, and the story sounded vaguely familiar in a way that made Faith think she should have been listening better when she'd been in Sunnydale that first time.

But her bad listening skills aside, she was able to kill the spider chick, and it resulted in her leaning over a heavily sedated Peter Burke while she freed him.

"Mm, let me guess. One of Neal's friends?" Peter's voice was slurred and Faith hoped that meant he wouldn't remember much of this in the morning.

"That describes me," Faith agreed. "Not sure I can say the same about you."

"We eat breakfast together," Peter answered, and really, what the hell kind of answer was that? All it told Faith was that Peter and Neal were possibly fucking on top of everything else, and considering that Faith had been ready to fuck Neal years ago, that didn't really tell her about Peter Burke at all.

~~

"I am _not_ having sex with Peter, Faith."

"A thief fucking an FBI agent. Christ. I thought _I_ had issues."

"I think it's safe to say that your inability to view my relationship with Peter as anything other than sexual is pretty indicative of your considerable issues, yes."

Faith rolled her eyes and blew a mouthful of smoke off the balcony. "Are you at least fucking the wife, too? Because she actually seems likable." In a very Joyce Summers kind of way, which certainly turned off all Faith's hormones, but it had to attract someone somewhere. If it hadn't, there wouldn't be any Buffys in the world.

"Okay, I am friends with Mozzie and even his trains of thought have never confused me this much. Why would you think that?"

"Because I get that relationships are complicated, Pretty Boy."

~~

One little sentence really shouldn't be able to haunt her quite so much, Faith thought several months later, while she was in the kind of extravagant London digs that she'd never dared to dream she might actually be able to afford one day.

But one dead watcher, one catatonic vampire with a soul, and several slayers in her guest rooms later, relationships were definitely proving to be complicated.

She hadn't heard a lot from Neal lately, or from Mozzie, beyond a few vague references to a sexy criminal doppleganger that looked "an astonishingly lot like you" and "increasing tension between PB and the Suit," both of which promised to be interesting when Faith actually had time to deal with it.

But then Neal showed up on her door step, interrupting her time table entirely.

"Your ankle is looking suspiciously naked," Faith observed. "Given the kicked puppy look, I'm guessing it wasn't a consensual decision on the FBI's behalf?"

Neal gave her a shrug. "Sometimes it's easier to get away than it is to stay."

"Pretty Boy, it's always easier to get away than it is to stay," Faith answered.

"Sage advice," Neal said. "Probably could have used it before I left New York."

"It's never too late to turn around and go back," Faith offered, because she had to say it. The vampire in her living room was proof of that, in all the ways that counted for himself and for her.

"It is when you get the wife of your partner kidnapped," Neal answered.

"Is she alright?" Because she'd never actually had a conversation with the woman, but what Faith had managed to gather from her one-sided spying attempts, the woman seemed genuinely nice.

"She's fine. We got her back, but ... I can't fix this. It's always been a fight, and I didn't mind that, back when I had a relationship worth fighting for, but ... now, I really don't."

"The problem with this conversation is that it requires a nice, responsible adult and nobody in this house qualifies," Faith informed him.

"A house like this? Playing social worker to a bunch of wayward teens and therapist to the vampire?" Neal's sarcasm had a stronger bite than she was used to, and Faith found herself liking that extra sharpness.

Which, considering the circumstances, was pretty awful of her, Faith had to admit. Hence, the irresponsible adult.

"Seems pretty responsible to me," Neal concluded. "You know, I'd like to be pretty caught up in my own angst here, but you're frowning pretty hard, Faith."

"It's what I do these days when I'm thinking bad thoughts. It goes well with the whole 'impersonating a responsible adult' thing."

"Then maybe you should give in to the urge to be an irresponsible adult," Neal suggested. "I hear it's just like riding a bike."

"Oh, I'm thinking of riding something," Faith agreed. "Only less of a bike, and more of a dude's face."

Neal blinked once, before the puppy dog look slipped away, to be replaced by the breezy look of a smooth con-man. "I could go for that. Let me show you that I'm still useful for something."

That was a little too vulnerable to be Neal, and a better woman would have pushed him a way, Faith knew. But she'd never known anyone to get better after being pushed _away._ So she slipped her hand in Neal's and tugged him up the stairs to her room.

There, she allowed him to prove that he wasn't anywhere near as useless as she'd originally believed him to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Faith's opinions about Buffy, Robin, Kate and Peter really do not reflect my own. Her opinions about Ohio possibly do, but as a native resident, I get mocking privileges.


End file.
